Nowadays
by FrancescaBella
Summary: What ever happened to Roxie and Velma after their last performance of ALL THAT JAZZ?
1. The Call back

The Call

Roxie hung up the phone wearing a huge grin across her face, and if her new appartment was any smaller her grin wouldn't have fit. She had just recieved her very first call-back from the Midnight Blues! As she sat there basking in her new achievement she realized that she should have been getting ready. Her agent had told her that she was to go to the Midnight Blues as soon as possible. And the 'judges' weren't going to wait for ever.

She began by rummaging through her drawers looking for a sexy little dress that would catch their eye. Finnally her eyes landed apon her 'I am sexy and single so take me home with you' dress. She hadn't warn it since the night she met Fred, but for such a special occasion she felt that it was necissary. She slipped it on and looked at herself in the mirror. Wow! She had not realized how curvy that dress made her look. She wondered if her boobs were actually that big (if so they hadn't appeared to be before... anyway...on to hair. She began searching for a style that would complement the dress. After at least 10 minuets she decided on a side part. She put on some base, blush, eyeliner, mascara and lipstick grabed her shoes and ran down the street.

As she was running she began to warm up her voice. She sang a few scales with several rude face stareing at he as if she had two heads. Roxie didn't care because she wanted this job so bad! She would look odd and sleep with who she had to to get this job. (And in this case it was Ned Banasty.) But that part was already taken care of. That is, what she suspected, even got her the callback in the first place.

Oh shit! She had forgotten her music, well she couldn't very well go back now. Besides, she could sing it accapella...right?


	2. The Audition

The Audition

All right...so no music and... and... thats it, no big deal right? "Just march right on in their... it will all be fine." Roxie murmered to herself. She swung the doors open and made her entrance. Pleasantly winking at the correct 'judges.' She steped up onto the stage and annonced, "Hello, I am Roxie Hart. I will be singin' All That Jazz..." the pianist held out his hand for the music, "on accapella." The piano man withdrew his hand and got comfortable in his seat with his hat resting on his face.

Roxie began singing slow and wabbaly at first but after a while she sang with full force and right on pitch. She was really getting into it when she noticed that the 'judges' had stopped paying attention a mere 20 seconds into the song. She wasn't sure whether to continue or await the harsh verdict. The audiance...shit not audiance... jury...damn it not jury...ummmm...'judges' yelled out up onto the stage that she need not continue. She hung her head and politly thanked the 'judges' as she walked down the steps off the stage.

"Where are youse going off ta?" one of the men yelled to her.

"I got rejected didn't I?" she yelled back.

"No, wes need a inocent lil girlie to sing, it'll get mooch more people." Roxie wasn't sure weather to be happy or mad at being called 'lil girlie.' She choose happy (at least for now.)

"Oh, thanks. I'll be here tonight then?" She asked shocked at how smoothly the words were coming out of her mouth.

"Course doll face." The man yelled back. She walked out the door and onto the cobblestone street. Her heels clicked against the pavement all the way home, providing the beat for I Feel Pretty, which she sang as she walked. I guess it does pay to sleep with the right guy she thought as she walked into some woman that was crying.

"I am soo sorry," she said to the woman and helped her with her papers. I didn't realize... and then I just...well I am really truly... Velma! Is that you!" She practically screamed! She gave her a big hug and asked why she was crying. Velma explained that she had just got rejected for the 16th time this month.

"It's not as easy as it used to be kid, they say I am yestadays news. Well I say damn them!" She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. She light the cigarette and kept talking as she walked. "Anyway, I just wanna be up on the stage again and I dont really care as ta what I'm doing up there." (she laughed to herself hearing how dirty that sounded)

"Hold up!" she yelled to Roxie, she was looking at a poster with a ballerina on it. She rose up onto her toes and put her hand in a fifth postion over her head. "Roxie!" she yelled, "I am gonna be a dancer!"


	3. The Ballet Registration

The Ballet Registration

Velma had stopped crying now and was thinking about her future as a ballerina, she laughed knowing that if someone had told her last year that she would have been yesterdays news and destened for dance and would not have belived them. In fact, she didn't even belive herself now.

She was headed on her way to the The School of Ballet which was right in downtown Chicago. Downtown, funny, she had never used that word except to referance _down...town..._ Anyway, she had arrived and was ready. She walked into the waiting room and looked around at the other women. They were all wearing leotards and tights ...oh shit! Velma realized she had no chance in her fish net tights and skin tight dress. She ran out the door as quickly as she could, she knew she had to get a leotard and PINK tights as soon as possible. She ran to the nearest dance store and grabed a black leotard and pink tights, and with out even bothering to try them on she ran out the door, thrusting a wad of cash at the cashier as she ran.

She relized how stupid she must have looked running down the street with a leotard, tights, and a coffee in her hands. She HAD to change, but where? Ummm... not the baker not the public restroom not the... wait the public restroom! She would NOT NOT NOT have gone in there unless the situation had needed it as bad as she did. Alright, she walked up the steps and coaxed herself to open the door. She walked in there like she owned the place, not that it was a place she wanted to own... but she grabed a stall and pulled on her tights and leotard which fit miraculously well for not trying them on. She ran to the mirror and arranged her hair in something that resembled a bun... and then she left. She finished her coffee on the way out and tossed it into the trash can. Some bum knocked into her and she yelled, "Fuck off, dumb ass! Oh shit!" She had dropped ALL the contents of her purse. She quickly picked them up and ran as fast as her body would let her. When she arrived at the Ballet studio her hair had fallen out of the bun.

Things were not going well today, but Velma was determined to get this dancing gig. She put her hair into a real bun this time and went up to the desk. The woman explained that she had to fill out a registration form in order to even be called for a dancing audition. Velma grabbed a registration form, and when she did she thought that she was grabbing ten, she found out that the form was 27 pages long! She got comfortable and started filling it out. Name... Velma Kelly Age...um, well she could give a little white lie right? Age: 22 Sex... oh she wished, she hadn't had sex in a long time. Sinse she got into jail, in fact. But who asked her about sex? Oh, the registration, sex: female. Ok well things were going smooth but she had only filled out the first line. She continued by filling out her adress, attachments to the city (as in spouse kids etc.) she wrote none.

Then she got to the previous experiance page. Well...not exactly page...more like pages. 16 pages to be precise. Which she was supposed to fill out with the academys where she had been taking classical ballet for the last 16 years. Oh shit...what was she going to do. She hadn't even begun the audition and she was in deep water... she wrote that she had been dancing on stage for 5 years and that she was choreographed by Harold Hanfagn. She wrote that she had been taught in jazz and a little tap... and it didn't hurt that she lied and said she had been taught classical ballet...even though she had never touched a pointe shoe in her life. She finished up the form by signing a waver for her imaginary call back. She handed the registration form to the woman at the desk and went back to her apartment. She had to take a ballet class before she got a call back!


End file.
